Dollymops and Toffkens. A Ride on the Rails of Victorian England

The investiation begins

Journal entry 137
Date: 17 June, 1889

Some disturbing things I have seen this 17th day of June. I do not consider myself to be a superstitious man, nor one of any deep berief in rerigion. As I, at a young age was brought to the knowledge of science and the physicarity of our worlrd. I am a firm believer in what I can see and touch. But tonight, this belief has been shaken, rather abruptly.

Two nights ago, as I was taking part in a game of chance with a burlry Eastern European man I had just met, a few fellows came in looking for said thug. One of them being an academic coleague of mine, a Mr. Nichoras Alset. I have met him a few times at academic social gatherings nad, he being a man of physics, we had many dicussions involving my research into powered flight.

Now, Nicholas and his companions were rooking into a disturbance at a house in another part of Rondon that struck my drunk fancy, and I inquireied if the would oblige me and alrow me to tag along. In purery scientific interest of course! They acquiesced and today we began our investigation. Again, I was merely following along out of sheer boredom as Octave Chanute is back in France right now, leaving me to my own devices as he deals with some family matters.

This morn started out innocuously enough. Nicholas, Viktor (the Eastern European Thug), and I began by talking with Mrs. Macarro, former resident of the alleged haunted house. Very portugese woman and of course along with that comes intense religious belief and superstition. She talked of a mist in the house with burning eyes that would stare at them. I chalked these up to, how would my british companions put it? Oh yes, poppycock! However we were pointed in the direction of a church that had burned down some 7 years earlier.

At the church we discovered a few interesting things. 1) I should never attempt to climb down a rope un-assisted. Alas, as adept as I am at research, I am equally inept at physical exertion. I swear someone coated the blasted rope in grease of some sort for, as soon as I went to grip it, i plummeted 10 feet down to the floor of the burnt church basement. A rather unpleasant experience. Also, of note, we have no one in our little group anywhere near knowledgable in even rudimentary first aid, so I must be more careful in the future, if this association is to continue with me in good health.

But I digress. In the basement of this burned down church, Giles discovered a tome from which I absolutely refuse to read. Especially after my experiences with Mr. Walter Corbit’s diaries, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyways, we discovered this tome of the Occult, a dagger I could only begin to surmise the uses of, and a list of members of the church.

We then decided it would be best to poke around the house Mr. Smith asked us to investigate. (My apologies, Mr. Smith is the man funding this little inquiry. See he is the owner of the alleged “haunted” house that the Macarros lived in, and is now empty. He wishes to rent it out but the disturbances in it have made it… shall we say “difficult” to lease). So, off we went to the house. As we entered, Giles insisted he heard what sounded like human hands scratching on wood. The others of us laughed it off as impossible, and him imagining something. He had come up with some sort of pscho-analytical theory of left over psychic energy from the previous owner of the house, Mr. Walter Corbit, who we also discovered was apparently buried in the home. Again, what my REAL scientific mind would call hogwash (to borrow from the colonial slang).

However, as we continued looking around, I distinctly heard footsteps upstairs so we bagan searching around on the second floor. I did not see anything of note until Nicholas called us back in to the first bedroom. One of the children’s rooms if I remember correctly. He then pointed out some blood that was running down the wall. Lord Tinsley inspected the blood closer and established to his satisfaction it was indeed blood. As we were discussing this oddity, the bed suddenly flew at Giles, and he only barely escaped it’s path or it would have crushed him against the window in the room. We quickly fled the house, not clearly understanding what had occured. I maintain that there was someone in the house who had rigged the bed to slide on some sort of a rail system that took it in the direction of Giles, but the moresimple minded of our bunch concur that some evil energy propelled the bed towards him… I for one am looking forward to returning to the house to investigate further.

After we left, we split up to investigate some other of our leads. icholas and I entered into a somewhat fruitless adventure to the local library, while Lord Tinsley went over to Scotland yard to look up some of the fellows on our list of Church members.We then met back at the local gentlemen’s club for some drinks courtesy of Lord Tinsley. While there, I perused the diaries we acquired at the Smith/Macarro/Corbit house, and Giles and Nicholas studied the tome we had found at the church.

I must say the diaries were rather disturbing. I have discovered, through study of them, what I believe is a way to improve my leather jacket’s toughness, making it ablative. I cannot begin to describe the science behind it, and must study this more. No doubt, I may have some issues falling asleep tonight as the sure feeling I had that the bed flung at nicholas was some sort of a contraption, is beginnign to wane. Could there possibly be some mystical, spiritual force at work here? My mind is in tumult trying to grapple with these thoughts… I must continue to contemplate thee odd occurences of the past 2 days…

Xing Xee



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